


It Raineth Every Day

by Violsva



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Early in Canon, Gen, Pre-Slash, Rain, Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2016, if you like - Freeform, scrapbooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violsva/pseuds/Violsva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes provides assistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Raineth Every Day

**Author's Note:**

> For Watson's Woes [July Writing Prompt #28](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1618706.html).

“This is a poor excuse for a summer,” said Watson, peering through the curtains at the unending rain.

“Perhaps you are too used to Afghanistan still,” I suggested. It looked like any other English summer to me.

“That’s likely it,” he agreed, leaving the window and slumping morosely into a chair.

I frowned as I turned back to my index; I couldn’t hear Watson picking up a book, so probably he was simply sitting, staring into space. In my own fits of melancholy I didn’t want any attempts at comfort or sympathy, but my instincts were telling me to go over and do something, though I had no idea what.

I had only known him for six months. It was exceedingly odd for me to feel this need to help with something so small, and so personal, rather than some abstract problem.

I considered the articles I was pasting into my index. There had been something -

“Would you kindly read me that article on the thefts at the gentlemen’s clubs on Pall Mall?” I asked, turning. Watson looked a little surprised.

“Certainly,” he said, searching amid the ruin of the Times on the breakfast table. “Have the police asked you for assistance?”

“No, but I think the matter may be of interest.”

“It’s hardly weather to go out in,” said Watson, with another disappointed look at the windows.

“I told you I can manage some matters without leaving this room. Hopefully this will be one of them. It might be an interesting practical example of deduction for your books.” His books were already a running joke between us, though I had no expectation that they would in fact be published, or that the public would be interested.

“Well,” said Watson, pulling out a section of the paper, “here we are. ‘The latest in a series of burglaries at the most prestigious gentlemen’s clubs...” I put my fingertips together and listened. He had, I thought, a good voice for this sort of thing.


End file.
